Jane Allen, Center

by George Cary Eggleston

  CHAPTER IX--GIRLS' LIFE A LA MODE

  Housekeeping, however irksome when a positive duty, is always a delightwhen "tried on" in miniature.

  So it was when the Wellington girls installed themselves in MissJordan's apartment, they had no idea of the novelty in store for them.The house was one of the old mansions now falling into the shadow ofthe Village. The Village, we recall, is that part of New York Citywhere artists of various sorts congregate, and live the life they termBohemian. Incidentally, there are many within the village who willnever have any claim to the title artist--other than to have possessedthe ambition to be so classified, but like half the aspirants forhonors, they may aspire, but not conspire, as they do not work honestlyto achieve the place they pretend to appropriate. But our girls did notgo within the village limits; they were just at its "gates" and so hadan opportunity of observing the interesting types of girls and youngwomen passing in and out, affecting the Bohemian.

  Long-haired men and short-haired women. Velvet-jacketed men andcloth-upholstered women--such persistent contradictions lending apeculiar picturesqueness to the otherwise prosaic Metropolis.

  A kitchenette and two sleeping rooms had been assigned to theWellingtons by Miss Jordan, the larger dining room being shared by twogroups. Miss Jordan explained she had found the individual kitchenindispensable, for all girls had their own ideas about kitchen work,while a dining room might be made communal, many persons having similartable habits, obviously. The living room was delightful. A long, highceiled drawing room originally. Miss Jordan had preserved the splendorof the crystal chandelier, and the glory of the hand carved marblemantel. Here all the girls were wont to congregate in their evenings,and those of them who had the opportunity came together around thesquare piano or curled themselves up with books in the bay window'scushions in the late afternoons.

  The clientele was sufficiently varied to be interesting, at the sametime Miss Jordan personally vouched for the general standing of each ofher paying guests. In fact, the rendezvous for young girls who might bein New York temporarily, and without personal chaperons, was a realinnovation, and it did fill a perfectly legitimate long-felt want.

  "Home was never like this," declared Judith, passing the chocolates toa little dark-haired art student, who had just come in from a morning'swork in a co-operative studio. The art student called herself AnaaKole, and just why she insisted on the second "a" to her otherwiseplain Ana had not yet been discovered by Judith. It looked to her likea waste of type, that could not be vocally made use of.

  "Miss Jordan is so motherly," admitted Anaa. "I sometimes wonder what Ishould have done if I had not found her apartment. I came here becausemy college directed me to."

  "That is just what happened to me," Judith declared. "I came herebecause Wellington actually toted me to the doorstep. Have some morechocolates, do!"

  "Oh, thank you, I do like sweets when I am tired. What are youstudying?"

  "Here? Nothing especially. We are just getting ready for our junioryear. All but Miss Podonsky. She is just beginning."

  "Isn't she dear? But why does she run every time the bell rings?"

  "Does she? I hadn't noticed," prevaricated Judith. "She is a littleshy, being a stranger, I suppose."

  "And she never practices when anyone is around. I have so wished tohear her play her violin. I am sure she is a wonder at it. But everytime I do have the good luck to come in while she is playing she stopsinstantly as I enter."

  "Don't you think most geniuses are peculiar?" parried Judith. "Helenwill not play for us unless--well, unless Miss Allen especially requestsit. She adores Jane."

  "I don't blame her," admitted Anaa. "I am charmed with her myself. Sheis one of the girls with rare character who is not forever advertisingit. When I came in with wet feet the other night she did not insist onme draining her chocolate pot. Most girls do, and I abhor hot drinksfor wet feet."

  Judith laughed. Anaa was naive, if a trifle conspicuous with her bobbedhair. Of course bobbed hair was so comfy, and so becoming, too bad itwas not the general style, mused Judith, patting her own heavy coil,that would slip down her neck every time she attempted to relax outsideof bed quilts.

  "I shall almost hate to leave for school," Judith supplied. "It hasbeen so jolly here."

  "I do not find New York exactly a playground," Miss Kole followed,"but, then, I am studying."

  "Of course that's different. We are shopping, shopping and after mealsshopping again. I wonder if there are any bargains left? I adore buyingpretty underlies, but I am not so keen on the practicals. But my friendJane has set up enough stuff to make a hope chest for all Wellington."

  "She is from the West, you said?"

  "Yes, from Montana. But that does not mean that she has never seenpretty things before and is overdoing it," Judith hurried to qualify injustice to Jane.

  "Oh, of course not. I did not mean to infer that," Miss Koleapologized. "But I do think Westerners, as a rule, are so much moregenerous, and so much more enthusiastic than the cold Easterners. I amfrom New England, and all I can remember of holidays around home isthat the rag rugs were taken off the carpets, and the powdered sugarsprinkled over the doughnuts. Life in my home was always a question ofrivalry in economy. When I came here I set out for days to buy everyimaginable sort of food I had been reading labels of all my life. Ofcourse at college I had all I wanted, but even there it was not on myown initiative. I longed to find out how it felt to be free to buywithout a pencil, and paper and premium list."

  "Oh, don't call your home town such hard names," Judith put in kindly."I am quite sure it has made you very dependable. I wouldn't wonder ifa term there would fit me for life with much better qualifications thanI can now boast of. But here come Jane and Helen." (They hadAmericanized the Helka.) "And now more bundles."

  "Oh, the darlingest tams," announced Jane, dropping down on the bigsofa. "I just had to carry them home to show you. Couldn't wait fordelivery. See Anaa," to Miss Kole, "aren't they perfectly dear?"

  "Oh, this year's tams are really classic," contributed the art student.

  Judith already had the hunter's green, soft velvet tam on her frowsyhead. "Jane, which is mine?"

  "Well, I did not know what you would like best with your riding habit.It would have been too uncertain to guess at the green, and the brownwas rather dark, so I thought perhaps this burgundy would go."

  "Stunning, perfectly so!" exclaimed Judith. "I have always wanted winecolor and been afraid to try it. Isn't it wonderful?" And the lovelysoft little cap was coaxed to a proper angle on the dark head.

  "And this is Helen's," Jane shook from its wrappers another cap of adeep violet hue. Helen blushed prettily as Judith insisted on trying iton her curly head.

  "Oh, look, girls!" Judith suddenly exclaimed, grasping Helen andswinging her around unceremoniously. "Now I know the color of her eyes!They are pure violet."

  The unexpected exclamation, and the energy of Judith's swing gave Helena perceptible start. For a moment she seemed about to dash off. Shechanged color from flush to pallor and was surely trembling. Thenrealizing it was all a joke, she quickly regained her composure, butnot before the girls had noted her curious attitude and alarm. EvenJane, slow to criticise, could not but admit Helen was frightened, andat such a trifle!

  Why was she always so fearful? What was there for her to be so markedlynervous about?

  That she had asked, and even insisted that the Polish name of HelkaPodonsky be changed to the American substitute, Helen Powderly, hadseemed reasonable enough to the girls, when just after their arrival inNew York Helen explained that name meant "power" and while the "sky"stood for distinction in Poland, it would mean nothing but possibleridicule in her school life. To this Jane and Judith had assented.Perhaps it would be best, they agreed, not to antagonize the lessbroadminded girls with the foreign title. Also, Helen had so earnestlywished it. All this flashed before their minds now, when a simplegirlish exclamation caused a panic of fear. It must be nerves, ofcourse. Perhaps Hele
n had studied too hard in qualifying for thescholarship!

  Girls are often jumpy, but not often quite so easily overcome, Janethought.

  "But what shall we do with so many hats?" asked Helen naivelyrecovering herself. "We shall be at school always."

  "Oh, not half of always," replied Jane. "You see, Helen, we must ride,I haven't told you about your horse (the violet eyes widened withpleasure) and then," continued Jane, "we are going on all sorts ofhikes and hunts and outside jaunts. We are going to beg you in as ajunior. Sometimes the juniors, that's Judith and me, are allowed tohave what we call pupils. It isn't really catalogued but weoccasionally get a younger girl to go with us, so that we may try outour knowledge on her."

  "Yes, and my particular stunt is," Judith acclaimed, trying her tam atanother angle, "to get a girl who knows more than I do, and let her tryout her knowledge on me. Last year I found a perfect wizard in MetaNoon. She knew more about bi-ology than I shall ever have a chance tolearn, and in the woods--what Meta didn't tell me about queer bugs, andbuzzards and beetles and bombus and--well, I was buzzing for a weekafter one hike."

  "After all," sighed Anaa, "school days have a charm. But we neverrealize it until it is gone."

  "Then of what value is the charm?" asked Jane.

  "Exactly like cutting a tooth--only good after all the cutting is done,"decided Judith.

  "We take no note of time but from its loss, you know the poet says,"followed Jane, "and I often think of the concise truth of thatstatement. We do not even know it is the hour until the hour is past.Oh, la-la! but we are getting philosophical. Personally, I am moreinterested in the kitchenette at this moment. Judith, it is your turnto do the K. P."

  "What ever branch of the A. E. F. instituted the Kitchen Police shouldhave been tried by court martial," blurted Judith. "The K. P. is a dutyfor the enemy, not for the home guard," and she dove for the divan andthe chocolate crumbs.

  "Oh, do let me get the dinner again," begged Helen. "You know I loveto. The little place is like a--baby play house."

  "Oh, yes, Helen, do run along and play," promptly agreed Judith. "As itis my turn, I give you full permission----"

  "Judy Stearns," called Jane in mock severity. "You are an awful fraud.Helen is too good to you. I shall make you do guard duty this eveningwhen we are out in the park. Besides, I am not going to give you yoursurprise."

  She got no further. The tall girl bounced over the room after Jane, whowas ducking nimbly only to be finally enmeshed in cushions andportieres.

  "Will you give it to me?" commanded Judith. "Or shall I wrest it fromyou! And what is it and where is it? Maybe a telegram, summoning me tomy jolly cowboys' wedding or funeral. Oh, shall I ever be able toforget my jolly cowboys?"

  "Easy, girls, easy," cautioned Anaa, "Miss Jordan is putty in ourhands, until we attempt football with her cushions. Then she turnsalabaster. Don't, Judith, it is a lot better to 'don't' than to 'did.'Take the advice of a good friend."

  At this the chase was halted. Jane was panting from the shaking andchoking Judith had administered, while Judith was looking for the everfractious hairpins, the same being the last of a precious set of shellpins imported from the Western coast. Judith and hairpins were alwaysat painful odds.

  "Judy," said Jane seriously, "do you realize our days are flying and wewill be due at Wellington very soon?"

  "Oh, Jane Allen! You horrid girl! Can't I have a day's peace here inthis wonderful New York without having Wellington poked at me?" andJudith facetiously jabbed at her eyes. "I have a very good mind to playhookey."

  Anaa had slipped out of the room, leaving Jane and Judith together.

  "Jane," whispered Judith, "whatever do you suppose makes Helen sonervous about strangers? She is positively timid in crowds. And when aman with queer whiskers, the Russian kind, brushed by us to-day on theavenue I could feel her shiver. Now, Janie, you do not suppose we areharboring a runaway, or anything like that?"

  "Why, Judy, how foolish. You know Mrs. Weatherbee would not have agreedthat father's scholarship be given Helen if she had not first carefullyexamined all her credentials. You know Mrs. Weatherbee and care. Aregular text book. But I will admit, the child is afraid in publicplaces. Much as I like it here, I should have been glad of a week in abig hotel just for the experience, if we could have induced her to gowith us. It is a little queer, still Helen is lovely, don't you thinkso?"

  "Too sweet for classification. Look at her now doing my chores," andJudith laughed. "Oh, Janie, dear, it is fun to be here, and to haveyour purse at the back of it. I never had so much spot cash in all mylife as I have seen you flourish since we located at the Jordanapartment. It perfectly scares me."